Science is Irrelevant
by Aiiro Hoshi
Summary: A short series of Stein/Medusa drabbles.
1. Science is Irrelevant

**Brief Commentary:  
**Stein/Medusa...damn it, it's so close to being my favorite Soul Eater pairing - it would be if Soul and Maka weren't so damn cannon. D: Anyway, there's only one fanfic for these two!? HOW LAME. They need moar attention. -sob-

_Stoplight, lock the door  
Don't look back  
Undress in the dark  
And hide from you  
All of you_

* * *

**Science is Irrelevant**_  
_

Professor Franken Stein had done his research. He knew that everything could easily be explained in terms of science. Even the frequent "appearances" of Medusa, in his laboratory or elsewhere, could be broken down into a simple explanation. The phantasm that lurked on the far edge of his mind, the hallucination that tempted him into insanity and the illusion that suggested so much more. It was due to an unstable mental state, or the result of an exhausted conscience. Stein knew that he had suffered from both traits for years, and with the leaking of Kishin's insanity into the atmosphere, it was only amplified to quite unhealthy levels.

Medusa's appearance, as attractive as he found it to be, could be explained as well. During his short decade of solitude (which began around the time that Spirit had exchanged him for his ex-wife's partnership), he had dipped quite curiously into the study of witches. Firstly, he had learned, there were no male witches. In order for witches to reproduce and carry on in the next generation, the use of a man, whether he be a meister, a weapon, or a regular human, was necessary. The average witch's physical appearance was used for this purpose, as their bodies helped to lure in unsuspecting human males; it was entirely genetic and a classic process of natural selection as well as adaptation. Witches who had reached the age of 65 or so would then begin to decline into old age, their life-spans being nearly twice that of the average _homo sapiens._

Witches were fiercely intelligent and cunning, and with the aid of their powerful magic, they were rather lethal opponents (Stein had experienced this himself more than once). Bluntly speaking, their race was far superior to his, but then again, this had been equalized through the ironic creation of human weapons and meisters - a witch herself having first established such beings, thus bringing the downfall of many of her own kind.

Stein knew this information as well as the back of his own hand. However, this knowledge did little to help him with his main issue: despite his solid facts, this did not stop the apparitions of Medusa from being so sleek and touchable to his senses. This did not stop the natural reactions of his terribly human body when she would make herself comfortable in his lap, while he tried to dredge up more knowledge from the old computer he sat in front of in the early morning hours. This did not stop a small part of his mind from just wishing that she truly was there.

Despite the fact that he knew that she was but a hallucination, he could not find anything, in all of his expanded knowledge about witches and hallucinations and the like, that could explain why the fingers that trailed down his chest in the evenings felt so solid, so there. The soft brushing of her warm breaths against his ears had seemed so real that often times he had turned around, expecting to see her face. And occasionally, Stein had almost been convinced that he _did_ sense the light, teasing presence of lips over his, daring him to do more, to initiate the next step.

Through some small form of will power, Stein had been able to avoid following her into insanity, into the tempting, impure sensation of sex he might wish he had. He supposed that a subconscious part of his mind had recognized the cunning in the apparition's actions, non-existent as they were, and pushed him away, helping him realize that to submit to this, as much as he may want to, would be wrong, and only lead to disappointment.

Even though Stein knew enough to keep himself away, she still appeared every evening, not even by a small percentage less desirable, to touch him and blow in his ears and to give him painfully real kisses down the jugular vein in his neck, her lips somehow piercing through the shirt he wore to brush his chest. He knew she was trying to send his unstable mind reeling, and often times it almost, almost worked. As much as he fought (which he seemed to do so little of), Stein could not help but think that one day, he would give in, have what he desired for a second or so, then be sent into a long down spiral of failure and disappointment.

As much as science _did_ explain, it did little for him in such a situation.

* * *

_...yeah, I guess I'll try to make this into a series of about twenty "drabbles" or so. This pairing deserves at least that much. -wail-  
_


	2. Love is Useless

**Brief Commentary:  
**I like this one. :D Expect something from Medusa's POV next time, although that's going to be harder to write from. Oh well. I like challenges!

_Do just what I tell you  
And no one will get hurt  
Don't come any closer  
'Cause I dunno how long I can hold my heart in two_

* * *

**Love is Useless**

It was the morning after Kishin's revival, Stein finding himself falling asleep at his computer from his lack of energy. Shibusen was in a bit of a haze, but whether this was the shock from the return of Kishin and the failure to stop him, or the heavy swirl of insanity, he could not be sure. None the less, the previous evening that lead into the early hours of the morning had taken its toll on him, and Stein found it difficult to concentrate on anything.

He jerked slightly at the sound of the heavy door to his laboratory creaking and scratching open. Turning his head to view the newcomer, he was unsurprised to see that it was Spirit, face a little pale and his hands a little shaky. Stein wondered if this was because of him - while they were still attending Shibusen, the red-haired demon weapon had never hesitated in informing him when he looked "terrifying."

"You needed something?" he swiveled his chair around to face Spirit directly.

"Ah, yes," he hesitated, before entering Stein's laboratory. The door swung shut by itself, and he was amused when he saw the Death Scythe jump at the loud noise.

"Shinigami-sama and I have a question for you, concerning Medusa," Spirit said quietly, finding a wooden stool and sitting on it.

"I see," Stein reached for a cigarette, sliding it onto its usual place on his lips as he searched for a lighter under the scattered notes and papers. They were quite embarrassingly unorganized, but he had bigger problems to worry about.

"For important purposes, obviously, we need to know whether or not you...err," he cleared his throat, the continuation of his sentence coming out in a very fast manner. "...feel or felt any sort of affections towards Medusa."

"Do I love Medusa?"

He felt a small rise of satisfaction as he found one of his favorite lighters (this one was decorated elaborately with skulls) and lifted it to the cigarette, drawing in the smell of tobacco as the end began to glow a soft orange. He set the lighter back down on his desk, fingers flying to the health-hazard between his lips to draw it back out and exhale. He shaped Shinigami's trademark skull in the air, before turning to look back at Spirit again.

"Well, to put it bluntly, yes," the Death Scythe spluttered, obviously embarrassed. Stein recognized this with surprise - the man before him had never been shy when it came to the topic of loving a woman. Now, how you loved a woman depended on who Spirit was seeing most often, but that was beyond the subject...

"No," Stein assured him, voice clear and relaxed. Any anxiety seemed to slip from Spirit's face, and a small smile of relief was present where a nervous frown had been before.

"I see, well, that's good," he tried to laugh, but it sounded as though he were choking on something. "We just wanted to make sure; it's not as though Shinigami-sama is suspicious of you or anything, but it's still best to...well, you understand."

He waved his hand to show that he did.

"Who has been assigned school nurse in Medusa's place?"

"Ah, Sid's partner, Nygus," Spirit nodded.

"Good choice," Stein place the cigarette back in his mouth. "I understand she has extensive medical knowledge?"

"She does," the Death Sycthe stood up, already making for the door. As he opened it, he muttered, just loud enough for Stein to hear, "Damn it, Stein, don't forget to eat."

And he was gone. He chuckled at his former-weapon's parting phrase, before turning back to the computer screen again.

Stein had been telling the truth when he said he didn't love Medusa. However, Spirit had failed to ask whether or not he was attracted to the snake witch. For he was. The Death Scythe had failed to notice the way the mad scientist's entire body had trembled at the sound of her name, and the sweaty shaking of his fingers as he had lit his cigarette. He couldn't have seen the obscene mental images Stein had brought to the surface of his mind, willingly or not.

Stein didn't _love_ Medusa. Love was a useless, stupid, foolish emotion that usually preceded an urge for human beings to mate.

However, he did _want_ her. Terribly so. Even if she was considered dead, he knew it would be more difficult than that to actually kill her. Medusa was still out there. And as long as the witch would live, Stein would crave her more than most anything else; her skin, her hair, her lips, her voice, her body itself...

He shuddered.

No, he definitely did not love Medusa.


	3. Dying is Stupid

**Brief Commentary:  
**Well, this is currently the easiest of my fanfics to update, sooo...here you are. :D This actually took less time than I expected. How funny, eh? Medusa is so awesome.. By the way - victor/lady of gorgon were rather helpful to listen to when writing this. (No idea what the hell those are? Check the new Soul Eater OST track list and DOWNLOAD, I COMMAND YOU. EES GOOD STUFF.)

* * *

**Dying is Stupid  
**

She could still taste the delicious tang of his blood in her mouth. Even as she crawled on her belly through Death City's underground sewage system, Medusa was still able to relish the memory - slowly climbing up his back, his expression of pure shock and horror as she bit violently into the juncture between his neck and shoulder, the flesh tearing between her teeth, the feel of his hand digging through her hair to wrench her off, throw her to the ground...

"I love you," she had said, and had proceeded into one of her first stages of insanity, laughing and screaming and crying out at the same time.

"Don't toy with me," he had replied, driving the Death Scythe straight through her skull, "Because neither you nor I know what love is."

And Medusa found this to be true. She couldn't quite understand why she had said it, but she remembered it feeling strange on her lips. She simply could not say those words and mean them.

Her forehead still ached, despite the fact that her snake form healed more rapidly than her witch body. She wanted to grin at her awareness of it, but of course, she couldn't do so - her body was not suited to it. She was sure that Stein hadn't forgotten it either, and that it would haunt him even more than it would her. As the snake witch slithered down another pipe, she decided she wanted to see him again, seduce him, make his nightmares real...

An overwhelming urge for sex had been present - and it still was now. Medusa could almost feel Stein pressing against her; his short, shallow breaths echoing in her ears as sensual noises bleated from both their lips; the rhythm of sweaty bodies moving in tune to the invisible beats of pleasure and an unbearable hot...She shivered in her snake skin, pleased with the images her mind was producing.

But besides intercourse, she found that she was also interested in his methods of studying and gathering scientific information - he was efficient at it, and she envied Shibusen for having him under employment. She would have to work harder at convincing him to join her side of things; the mad scientist would be an invaluable source of data and calculations. Her Kishin would have been reborn within little to no time if she had just converted him earlier...

Stein had also proved to be an excellent fighter - nearly taking her own life proved that much. Certainly, he had a difficult time doing it, but nonetheless it had been done. She was interested in seeing all of his physical capabilities (a few suggestive situations rose to mind, but she ignored them), and further her mental study of his character, his body, his mind.

His mind...she wanted to be the first to understand it, to weave her way into it, the first to be able to relate to him. The snake witch wanted the dark corridors of his insane thoughts to be accessible to her (and only her), wanted the tightly locked doors of his emotions and knowledge to open for her, wanted the stiffly guarded facade to drop when she was present, because he would know that only _she_ knew his insanity as intimately as a lover...

At least she already had tied a minuscule thread with Stein - they were both insane scientists, and there was a mutual feeling of...Medusa couldn't think of a word to identify the strange emotion. Perhaps lust? Well, for now, she supposed that would be the proper label. So this was lust, then.

She believed that she preferred it much more than the ever so classic feeling of "love." The very idea of such a thing disgusted her to her core, and she pushed it from her mind. No, Medusa was a snake witch. She did not feel "love." She felt anger, irritation, pity, greed, and satisfaction.

And now, apparently, "lust." It was painfully obvious that Stein presently felt the same, whether he knew that she was alive or not. Their little obsessions with one another would only grow larger and all the more infected with impure thoughts and emotions, and when they might meet again, perhaps chaos or madness would erupt and destroy the both of them. Or perhaps they would join together, whether for pleasure or for using the other, it mattered not. Medusa flicked out her tongue to catch the scent of anything near by, reminded once again of the blood still encrusted on her fangs.

Their little "reunion" would have to come later, after she had found a replacement body, regained her powers, and regenerated herself. And that would take her time. Perhaps a few years at the very most. During those few years, she would have to survive all brushes with death, in order to make sure she came back to haunt him, with her body and life span in nearly perfect condition. No, dying would make her selfish plans worthless.

If she wanted to study him, feel him again, taste him again...Medusa found that most of all, she wanted to hear him scream...

No, dying would be a waste.

* * *

_I'm sorry, this one kind of sucks...  
_


	4. Escaping is Naïve

**Brief Commentary:  
**So much good Soul Eater stuff is coming out. Like the Character Song 2, the OST...-happy sigh- Well, school is simply just being a bitch, and it's going to get harder and harder to update. D: Nyaaaah, but I don't wanna go...at least not at 6:30 AM...

Poke the corpse, please. Kerli is still beast. So is Clint Mansell. :D But this is Chevelle.

_Well if they're making it  
Then they're pushing it  
And they're leading us along  
The hassle of all the screaming fits  
That panic makes remorse_

* * *

**Escaping is Naïve**

He had tried shouting, he had tried screeching. He had tried pleading, he had tried begging. He had even offered, in one of his worst moments, to submit if _she_ would just _get the hell out of his mind._ It had already been slightly less than sane to begin with, and _she_ wasn't helping any. He constantly felt _her_ gaze on his back, _her_ lips crushed against his mouth, _her_ hands on his shoulders, his chest, other areas...

Even with her at his side, who he knew had been assigned to him in order to keep the insanity away, she could do nothing to erase, or even slightly numb it. He pitied her, for she was pinned to him, whether she wanted to be or not, and her subconscious efforts to cleanse him had turned out to be entirely fruitless.

He knew. She knew. And _she_,_ she _knew, too. They all knew that while the both of them had "escaped," leaving Shibusen and Death City behind would do little. _She_ would still linger on the corner of his mind, narrating his every thought, every action, and despite the attempts to drive _her_ away,_ she_ would remain.

Perhaps _he_ had expected something out of their partnership. A speedy, miraculous cure from his insanity, perhaps, maybe even a permanent relationship between him and her. But that assumption _he_ had made had been proven wrong. Even with the strange substance gone from her body (**he** had helped discover it, but he didn't want to think about **him** right now), her light had died with the life of her former lover, and her "brightness" was ineffective.

_She_ wasn't going anywhere. They all knew it.

* * *

_Gah, I don't like this one at ALL...__  
Try guessing who _he, she_, __he, she, and **him** are. Come on, I dare you. If you give up, PM me, losers. :P Jk, I love you all very much._


	5. Scalpels are Beautiful

**Brief Commentary:  
**Gah, I'm pissed. / I attempted to download a torrent (as well as a client for it), but unfortunately, we don't have a static IP address on our Mac yet...I tried talking to my dad about getting one, but he insists that until he knows what an IP address IS, specifically (WTH? He works with the most advanced technology every day, but he doesn't know what an IP address is!?), ours will remain default.

Agh, thanks for sitting through the rant. And please, poke the corpse on your way out.

Only listened to "v i c t o r" this time, from the OST. Before I forget, this chapter is dedicated to Dead.Face and Wing Love. :D Congrats for mostly getting everybody from the last chapter right!

* * *

**Scalpels are Beautiful  
**

You feel pain. Too much pain. But it doesn't come from any one area, despite the major wounds embedded into your body. It is internal, external, it is every where. Inescapable. Spirit keeps trying to get you to focus, but you pretend you don't hear him because you're attempting to do that anyway. But it is hard. Too hard, when she is only three or four meters away.

Medusa.

Your fingers quiver uneasily when you think her name. The snake witch, the reviver of Kishin, Shibusen's former school nurse. You understand that she aims to kill you, and that you must aim to kill her. But that is also difficult. Even though you are the only one who can do this, you'd rather not. You have affiliated yourself with her far too much and far too deeply. Her seducing has worked its charm, and you feel quite helpless - her murmured words at the Christmas Eve party have weakened, if not nearly destroyed your attachment to Shibusen.

Granted, you still support Shinigami-sama and his morals, and you are still willing to teach. But her short monologue, brimming with evil and madness and everything alluring to you, has made your resolve wither, planted the question in your head.

_What is the point of staying if nothing interesting will happen?_

You hear Spirit again, informing you that you aren't "terrifying" anymore. You know this already, and tell him so, and affirm that you are attempting to get back into that state of mind, dangerous as it is. But now, you realize, you actually are not. You are thinking of unnecessary, distracting things, that will only weaken you physically and mentally.

The pain you had been feeling earlier grows sharper, like a razor blade cutting into your gut. You try to ignore it, and focus on the thoughts you need to have. The self you keep locked up whenever possible, your own personal demon...you have to be thinking his thoughts. It is required.

Think of Medusa, think of cutting into her flesh, investigating the inner workings of her body, of her mind, think of the bloody residue that will be left over, the patterns of stitches that will be left behind when you finish...

And suddenly, you _want_ to dissect this snake witch. You want to know _everything_ about her. You want to see her lying in pieces, a crumpled, defeated, weak woman, shattered by your own hand, blade, and scalpel. You want to see what is in her blood, if she has any internal organs different from yours, or if she has the very same. You want to count just how many snakes slither through her veins. You want to know how much she bleeds, you want to know how fast she can heal so you can test it over and over again.

You want to see stitches marking her body, crisscrossing over her limbs and face, never to disappear and ruin her forever, like it has with you. You want to see what can kill her, what cannot. You want to test your latest witch theories on her, to see if some of them are accurate. You want her face to be lined with pain and resentment, twisted with insanity and hatred. You want to make her cry out in pain, you want to carve marks into her flesh that will heal over as intricate scars.

You want to make her escape impossible, and find out how she thinks, how she schemes. You want to cut off her hands so that you might never have to imagine them in the places they had been put at the Christmas Eve Party. You want her lying in the bright glare of the florescent light, strapped naked to the cold metal of your examination table, all of her secrets exposed...

You feel your hand reaching for its accustomed place on the nail in your skull. The history of how you received that nail flashes through your mind for a brief instant, the story itself drenched in blood and horror, but you are so used to it by now that you think nothing of it. Your spine and shoulders relax as you let it turn, the soft clicking sounds it makes as it twists around and around in your brain a comforting sensation. You crack your neck a few times, readjust your grip on Spirit, and grin.

The pain is gone, and a delighted ecstasy is brimming over, and you feel the madness spreading through you at an alarming speed. Spirit inquires what exactly you think you are doing.

"...I obviously want to dissect," is all you can say, before any common sense left is swallowed up completely.


	6. Snakes are Enticing

**Brief Commentary:  
**Whoa, unusual shortage of homework! HOORAY! The happiness level has increased 10 fold! I just have to do my Civics, my Science, and Advanced Art...oh, and I need to practice, but anyway...YAY AGAIN. Oh, and there's three quizzes I need to study for... Bah, I don't care anymore. Updating, plsu.

_We are the shaken  
We are the monsters underneath your bed  
Believe what you read  
We are, we are mistaken  
We are the voices inside your head  
Believe what you see_

* * *

**Snakes are Enticing**

You can tell it's hard for him to focus. His movements are slow and reluctant, and his partner keeps nagging for him to collect his thoughts and himself, to get back in there and fight. You know the argument is one-sided and fairly pointless. You have shaken him to his core, corrupting every reason he has ever had for staying at the damned school you are now beneath. Now all that leaves is for you to speak a few clever words and turn him over completely, have him make the ultimate betrayal and join your side.

Stein.

Despite Chrona's failure, and the missed opportunity to spread the black blood through the partnership of Maka Albarn and Soul Eater Evans, you still have countless victories to be decided. The revival of your Kishin, of course, and eventually, the aid of Franken Stein on your project to make the world "a more interesting place."

You give a grin, eyes darkening as you do so. You give a delighted little hiss and decide you feel a bit sorry for him. It would have been so much easier for him to resist if he had been born a woman. But, no, he is instead a man, easily tempted by whispered words (in your case, full of intent both true and false) and attractive, youthful bodies. Behind the anger and will to live in his eyes, you know you are not imagining the hungry lust feeding on every dark memory of you. This pleases you, you find, and you are not dissatisfied by the uncomfortable wriggling in the lower region of your body.

But you ignore it; being a witch, you already have experienced this fearsome urge to reproduce many, many times. Chrona is proof enough of that. So you push away your instincts and focus on the fight on hand, which has been momentarily postponed due to Stein's attempt at focusing himself.

_Good luck,_ you sneer, but it seems that those thoughts, which are intended to be sarcastic, have actually fulfilled their purpose. Stein's posture and soul wavelengths suddenly change, and he begins cracking his neck a few times, face darkening into some unreadable expression. After he twists the screw in his skull around a few times, he opens his mouth, answering some question she hadn't quite heard.

"...I obviously want to dissect."

"Hee hee, so cute," you giggle, feigning girlish innocence, before you set your mouth into a twisted smile, "I wanna play with you."

Suddenly you are excited, and as his pupils dilate, you know that this will be final - one of you will either die or barely escape alive, and it will be a grand victory. You plan to avoid killing Stein if you can; he is useful for more reasons than one, after all, but his partner is a different matter. Now, how to coax the Death Scythe back into his human form...when he is in weapon form, you know it is harder to kill him - and you want to do it swiftly, before you can hear another word from his disgusting, imbecilic mouth.

However, you are not granted much time to think, as suddenly Stein is lunging for you, and with a smirk you call upon a few of your snakes, feeling the familiar tingling sensation as they escape your body to form sharp points, prepared to dig into the man's flesh.

_Medusa-sama, let us kill him!_

You hear their pleading cry, begging for a chance to take a life, and with a small bit of regret, you have to refuse. Stein has begun to speak again.

"Hee hee hee," Stein imitates you, a dark grin on his face, "I'm shredding you into pieces..."

You avoid his hand, already knowing what he can do - his Soul Purge is not an attack to be taken lightly. You speak your offer again as you swerve your body, telling him what he already knows - an unchanging world is not one he should live in. You explain that the Kishin can be used to make the damnable planet evolve, but Stein does not respond. Immediately, anyway; you know that he is thinking about something.

_Forgive me, my darlings, but you will have to kill another night, _you murmur in a tongue unknown to anyone but yourself and your precious children (Chrona is not counted among them - she is only necessary to carry on your lineage). The snakes are about to hiss in irritation, but you continue. _You will only be called upon for such a purpose if things should become truly dire._

They weep briefly, but spring dutifully forward, attempting at tearing and jarring Stein's flesh. The short dialogue between you and the snakes has taken place in less than a second, and heard only amongst you and them. He avoids them, and you give a silent, impatient snort. But no matter, you shall strike again.

Suddenly, it is Stein's turn to monologue, as he begins to explain the treatment doctors and others gave him when he was growing up, how the stupid bastards were trying to rationalize everything about him, and how he wanted to dissect every one of them. While he is doing this, you realize his offense has become terribly repetitive. It is a boring story, a boring battle; you want to fight, you want to enslave him.

You tell him so, although leaving out your personal interests.

"I was responding to your invitation just now," he replies, swinging the Death Scythe at you this time. You avoid it with ease. He asks you if you know why he restrained himself from allowing himself to remain completely insane. Something else that is ridiculously easy.

"Fear," is all you say. He seems satisfied that you know.

"Not bad," he chimes, and goes on to explain that he was concerned about what his future self might be like, and that he will only listen to God, no matter how selfish God is. You roll your eyes in boredom - Stein doesn't see. You don't believe in such things as God. Not an almighty, holy being anyway. That sort of thing does not exist in such a cruel world. Surely if there was a God, He would have abandoned such a world by now.

This is boring.

_My children, _you whisper lovingly, and they rush forward in your veins. _The Heart Piercing Drill..._

_Oh, yes, yes, Medusa-sama! _You easily hear their pleasure. _Will we be killing him?_

_No, I'm afraid not._

You barely hear what you are responding with as he denounces your useless phrases as selfish, but you couldn't care less. He is wide open, and quietly announcing your offense, you pierce Stein's stomach. The Death Scythe attempts to convey something to him as he stumbles and catches himself, readying for another attack, but it falls on deaf ears - this second part of the fight will be interesting, you know, and your grin widens with delight.

"Before selfish thoughts become the criteria, how can you face the betrayal of God? I cannot follow you!"

A lie. You know as well as he does that he does not believe in God. You say something back, but you are too busy readying many more of your snakes to attack as he does. Stein's pupil's have grown smaller with his insanity, and your eyes have grown even darker as he screeches in excitement, lunging for you.

_"I WANNA DISSECT WITHOUT A SENSE OF BETRAYAL!!"_

_"SO THIS IS HOW YOU LET YOURSELF GO CRAZY!!" _is all you can scream back, your snakes launching themselves at him at a mach speed, his hand closing the distance towards your own stomach at roughly the same. You realize the meaning behind his statement, but you are too caught up to care.

* * *

_This is much longer than in Stein's POV, but I should think that the insane Stein wouldn't be able to appreciate everything as much. Besides, I need to give Medusa the spotlight, too. I tried not to overuse the dialogue, because that gets annoying, I know. Tell me how I did - I actually like this one. :)  
_


	7. Lonely is Good

**Brief Commentary:  
**I decided to make this quick before I go off to study for the three quizzes I have _tomorrow._ Whose f-cked up idea was that, anyway!?

_Mary had a lamb  
His eyes black as coals  
If we play very quiet, my lamb  
Mary never has to know_

* * *

**Lonely is Good**

I'm lonely.

Even with Ragnarok, I'm so alone that I want to scream.

But that's all right.

It means she isn't paying attention to me.

Good.

I feel sorry for him, the man with the screw in his head.

She's so dreadful.

For now, I'll be by myself.

I'm glad.

At least she won't make me do things I don't know how to deal with.

I hate that.

I wonder if she's making him do things he doesn't know how to deal with.

She likes doing that.

Maybe.

Maybe he's as lonely as me.

Maybe that's why she's paying attention to him.

I'll bet that if she keeps paying attention him, she'll forget about me.

That's good.

If she forgets about me...

And Ragnarok, I said!

I said that already, stop it!

Stop pulling my cheeks!

I don't know how to deal with them when they're pink!

No, that's no good, stop pinching my nose!

Don't eat my food, my ribs will stick out!

I don't know how to deal with my ribs sticking out!

I already said Ragnarok!

...

I don't like thinking about this.

I don't even care about the screw-man.

Poor screw-man.

At least it's not me.

I'm glad she's paying attention to him.

Even if I do feel bad.

I'm confused, I don't know how to deal with this.

As long as I'm by myself.

That's good.

As long as she's not paying attention to me.

* * *

_There you go. I dislike it because I put no effort into it. But at least it's done. Poor Chrona. She's fun to write from.  
_


	8. Victory is Sweet

**Brief Commentary:  
**I wonder if I've expressed enough how much I love this skankysmexynerdy pairing. :D Stein/Medusa is too good to be true (good?), and I'm going to explode. LOL. So. Here we go. A bit of smut for you. Come on, don't tell me you haven't been wanting any.It's _smut._ And I'm high. Or something. LOL. Can you get high from running around your neighborhood? IDFK. Well, hopefully this will make up for the last chapter. However, this is quite actually my first time with smut, so hopefully it won't be too stupid. :D

Even if it sucks, reviews would be awesome. Tell me how I can improve, damn iiit.

_You can have my isolation  
You can have the hate that it brings  
You can have my absence of faith  
You can have my everything_

* * *

**Victory is Sweet**

_He is hers._

She realizes this with a triumphant smirk on her face as she pins Stein to the floor using little to no effort. He stares at her with some unreadable emotion, as if he is contemplating something, but he does not struggle - he even seems to be relaxing beneath her.

Medusa brings her face closer, lips nearly brushing against his as she whispers,

"I win."

Stein hesitates briefly, but the temptation is too great.

"You win," he echoes, voice soft.

And she is suddenly upon him, meshing her mouth against his own, pressing her body onto him, hands traveling up to the sides of his face to hold him still, legs spreading and clenching around his waist. He does not object, and Medusa knows that she is enacting what he has fantasized about for so long, even when he was still foolishly attempting to resist the pull of her insanity. She knows that he wishes that they were unclothed, as well.

A muffled noise thrums out of his mouth and into hers, and Medusa grins. Stein is not about to deny what he wants. His hands, left unattended, rise to skim along her arms, her throat, then they drift down to her hips and stay there. She glances at him trough half-shut yellow eyes, and is pleased to see the amused challenge in his pale green ones.

Stein knows he has been defeated, he has lost the war.

However, _this_ war is a completely different one.

Medusa pulls away from him and allows her hands to slither to the folds of his white lab coat, and she begins to roll it back from his shoulders, effectively trapping any movement from his upper arms as she does so. He doesn't seem to mind, although he hesitates again. She knows he is wondering if he will regret this, she knows it far too well. So she kisses him fiercely again (it can hardly be called kissing, it is such a savage action), erasing the doubtful thoughts from his mind with ease as his once cautious hands bring themselves to the sides of her face and he begins to return the gesture.

In return, she frees his arms by literally tearing his coat away, but Stein doesn't care about the coat. He's free to do what he likes now, and Medusa doesn't feel particularly obliged to stop him. He sits up, bringing her with him, and while she's still busy with his face and his lips, his hands wander towards the zipper on her clothes, which travels in a delightful pattern all the way from the hollow of her throat down to her hips.

Slowly, agonizingly, he rolls it down, revealing her pale, scarred flesh, wounds from past battles healing over in a twisted imperfection of shallow ruts and risen lines. She is just as ruined as he is. He grins, and Medusa makes for his shirt. Stein obediently raises his arms from her hips to allow her to pull the rough material off, deciding he doesn't care if she saw the equally marred flesh beneath it. Huskily, he murmurs something she does not hear, but she comes to the conclusion that it is of little importance anyway.

The minutes trail on, and one by one, clothes are discarded carelessly onto the floor, and soon the smell of sex grows heavy in the room as muffled gasps and moans bounce off of the sound proof walls. They have forgotten who they are, where they are, and anything else but their greedy, impure selves. Their insanity, their passion, their intimacy is of little worth to them now, it is only rhythm and sound, sweat, heat, back and forth, breathe, lips against flesh, hands in places they should not go...

It is with one last release (of what? They can't remember anymore) that the two scientists, the two imbeciles, the two sadists, the two _lovers_ (what was the meaning of that word? They didn't love each other at all...) fell still, their shallow breathing the only sounds besides a trickle of meaningless words from their lips. They fall asleep, naked and descrated, but they were never really pure in the first place, with all the blood on their hands and Medusa's birth of a useless child.

The snake witch awakens before the mad scientist does, briefly pressing her forehead against his before she stands and dresses her self. She combs her hair with her fingers, observes Stein for a few more minutes in one of his rare states of sleep, then leaves. But he isn't really asleep, she knows, he's awake, and he knows that there will be more occurances like this, and all he can do is wait, be a good boy, and wait. Whether he likes it or not.

But he likes it. She knows. She knows this very well.


	9. Nausea is Not Unusual

**Brief Commentary:  
**Well to my expectancy, the last three chapters sucked ass. Oh well, I'm pretty sure everyone is convinced that at the time I was drunk off my own ass or something, but unfortunately I was just very, very tired and feeling very, very stupid. Not the best time to write fanfiction, apparently. Well, for this one the timing is better and I've been inspired to write - it didn't just explode on me. So attempt to enjoy this one and forget the last three existed, ne?

_I'd give it all just to have, have your eternity.  
Cause it's all that assures me.  
It's worth all that hurts me._

* * *

**_Nausea is Not Unusual_**_  
_

She is lying next to him. He can feel her watching him intently, and he wishes he could disappear from her sight.

His sins had always been an ominous tower in the back of his mind, corpses piled upon corpses; a nauseating, irritating rot that would never disappear. Just a few minutes ago, in a confused act of sex, the last corpse had been piled on, and he knew that if there was such a thing as God, God was looking at him now. God was disgusted.

Stein felt a strange mix of fear and apathy swirl around in his stomach, knowing his hands were so filthy that even a witch such as Medusa would approach him, and that there was no way of cleaning them. He had known this for such a long time, but it had never felt so painfully true. Or perhaps it had. He couldn't remember.

And maybe he truly had killed Joe. Maybe? Maybe could be interpreted as "probably," he supposed.

Her eyes are still trained on him, and he resists the urge to shiver. Medusa lightly runs her cold fingertips down his shoulder, but he refuses to move. She presses her lips, dry and cracked in a few places, to his rough skin, and his eyes flutter open for a brief instant. He meets her gaze and immediately looks away. She lets out a small sigh and sits up, some what understanding his mood and deciding it would be best not to bother him for another round of sex.

Stein had never thought that the path he had chosen, the wrong path, of course, would be quite so empty. Certainly, it was an evil and terrible thing to do, with only consequences, but there were even few of those. The days seemed slow and tedious, and he could do nothing. Nothing but sit here in the gaze of God, who only stared at his sins in pure revulsion.

There is nothing in this world Medusa promised him. There was lust, and lots of sex, but there was no change, there was no diversity. There was no thrill, there were no decisions, there was nothing. And he could not escape it, even if he wanted to. But he didn't have enough motivation to want to leave, anyway.

He let the snake lead him forward, being promised his own personal, selfish paradise, and yet the snake had lead him to a wasteland, because that was what she was meant to do. And she certainly was enjoying it.

At this realization, Stein leaned over and vomited onto the floor, a petulant smirk on Medusa's face.


End file.
